Dinner with Friends
by Kaytee
Summary: An evening with friends leads to surprising answers.
1. Default Chapter

Dinner with Friends

by Kaytee

Disclaimer: This shit ain't mine, and they can keep it. 

Author's Note: This veers off from the show's storyline after "Something Wild." As in, Pacey and Audrey aren't hooking up, Joey didn't kiss her damn teacher, and Dawson was only mildly irritating. Yeah. 

Thank you: To Bijal, for seven solid months of total flaking on my part. To Lara, for being a-musing. To Laura Sue, for wacked-out inspiration. 

Rating: PG 

Distribution: Ask me. 

Feedback: Yes, please! kaytee@dstream.net 

* * *

Part One

"I'm so excited!" 

Glancing over at her, I can't help but smile. She's practically bouncing with delight as we walk down the sidewalk, despite the fact that it's beginning to snow and we'll probably freeze to death if we don't get there soon. "It's just dinner, Audrey." 

"Yes, but it's a 'group' dinner," she points out as we hurry down the street. "Which means that even if the food isn't all that great, the ensuing drama will at least provide me with quality entertainment." 

"You cause your share of drama. Or have you forgotten the food you repeatedly flung on yourself the last time we all got together for dinner?" 

"That doesn't count. That was on your behalf," she reminds me with an exasperated sigh. "And anyway, I'm not really part of the group yet." 

It's my turn to roll my eyes now. "Whatever." 

"No, seriously," she protests. "Given the history, I'm pretty sure I have to at least make out with Pacey first." 

"Then I honestly hope you don't mind being on the outside, looking in." 

Audrey laughs and bumps her hip against mine. "Didn't like that idea much, did ya, bunny?" 

"Oh look," I interrupt brightly as we approach Civilization. "We're here." 

Civilization is crowded, which is somewhat surprising for a Thursday evening. It looks as though we're the first to arrive, because I don't see anyone holding a table for us. After speaking with the hostess and confirming the reservation, Audrey and I find two seats together at the bar and wait for our table to clear. 

Despite her valiant attempts to look both flirtatious and older, the bartender takes a look at us and visibly concludes that we're underage. Audrey slumps when it becomes obvious that he's not even going to come our way, and picks a few peanuts from the bowl on the bar. 

"You need to find a man." 

A burst of laughter escapes me before I can stop myself. "Where the hell did that come from?" 

"I was just thinking, you know. You should really consider getting a boy." 

"Simple as that, huh?" 

"Why not?" she shrugs, and I can't help but laugh. "I'm serious! I think it would do you a world of good to be with someone who didn't share finger paints with you in kindergarten." 

"What's going on here? What have you done with Audrey?" I ask, confused. "Aren't you the one who used to root for Dawson?" 

"Well . . . yeah," she admits, picking out a few more peanuts from the dish. "But then he and Jen got together out of the blue, and there was that whole "it hurts to look at you" thing or whatever it was he said." 

"Thanks for reminding me," I mutter, rolling my eyes. 

"You know what I mean," she says, nudging me with her elbow. "I'm just saying, I think you need to get back out there. It's been, what, since May or something since you've gotten off?" 

"Audrey!" 

"Listen, you seriously should start dating, Jo," she continues, even as I duck my head and look around to see if anyone happened to overhear our conversation. "I mean, you hang out with me, Jen, and your three ex-boyfriends. You're never gonna get any that way, with the possible exception of Pacey." 

Shaking my head, I can't help but argue the point. "You know as well as I do that Pacey and I aren't going to happen again. He moved on, to Melanie and then to Karen. Dawson and I nearly got together. Pacey and I are just good friends now, nothing more." 

Audrey raises her eyebrows and all but says 'whatever'. "It's not possible to be just friends with someone who's not only seen you naked, but your orgasm face as well." 

"Is there a point to this?" 

"Yes," she answers immediately. "You need some lovin', girlie. And if it's not going to happen with Pacey, as unfortunate as that may be, you need to look elsewhere. You need to find yourself a decent guy, fall crazy in love with him and have some damn fantastic sex." 

It's a good thing the noise level is pretty high in here, being this crowded and all. "Sounds pretty easy," I comment, hoping the sarcasm doesn't land on deaf ears. 

"It can be," she counters determinedly. 

"Look, I don't want to date right now. For one thing, I already found a good guy. I fell crazy in love with him, and we eventually had the 'damn fantastic sex.' We made plans, and we talked about the future and our lives all the time. When I suggested staying in Capeside to be with him, he said he'd follow me wherever I went to school." 

Heaving a deeply aggravating sigh before continuing, I tuck my hair behind my ears instead of throttling her. "But it doesn't matter, because Prince Charming turned out to have an insurmountable inferiority complex. And it wasn't exactly helped by my continued friendship with Dawson or my overachieving nature. Prince Charming publicly dumped me and flew to Florida, boarded a boat and sailed away." 

Audrey's about to answer, but she's interrupted by someone behind us. 

"Isn't it funny, though, how he wound up in Boston anyway?" 

Later on, I won't remember how I manage to remain calm and cool I seem when I look over my shoulder as Prince Charming himself comes up behind us, unwrapping an apron from around his waist. "You know what's even funnier? The completely accidental way I found out. That was hysterical." 

His eyes are guarded and whatever he's feeling, he's hiding it well. Not like I'm exactly searching the depths or anything, because God knows what my eyes are giving away. 

"Hi, Pacey!" 

Turning his attention from me, he grins in response to her wildly flirtatious smile. "How ya doin', Audrey?" 

"Better by the minute, sweet thang," she answers with a wink. 

"Sorry, honey, your charms won't work on me tonight," he laughs. "Go bat your eyes at another sucker, cause I'm not buyin'." 

"Good thing I'm not for sale then, isn't it?" 

Her knee bumps mine and I smile at her, relieved and grateful for the diversion. To Pacey I say, "Is our table ready?" 

He glances over his shoulder across the restaurant and nods, turning back to me. "It looks like Carl's clearing it now. It'll only be a minute or two." 

"Great. I'm gonna run to the little girls' room for a second, touch up my lipstick or something," Audrey announces, sliding off the barstool and gathering up her purse. "Stunning beauty like this doesn't just happen, you know. I'm sure you two can find something to discuss in my absence." 

Before I have a chance to hop up and follow her, Pacey sits down beside me. Leaning his elbow on the bar, he turns towards me and just watches me for a moment or two. God, I can't stand this. 

"Just say it," I snap, nervously tucking my hair behind my ears. "Whatever it is, just spit it out." 

He takes a deep breath before answering, and from that alone I can tell he's frustrated. I don't know why he would be, though; it's not like he overheard me saying anything that wasn't true. 

"The thing is, Jo, I don't know what the hell to say here. I mean, what was -" 

He stops in mid-sentence, his attention caught by someone behind me. Following his gaze, I turn in my seat as Dawson and Jen see us and wave. 

"We'll talk about this later," he says quietly, smiling and nodding back to Dawson as they approach. 

Standing and gathering up my purse, I smile and wait for them to make their way through the throng of people. "There's nothing to talk about." 

He's about to disagree, but Dawson and Jen reach us before he can say anything more. Whoever knew I'd be relieved to see them? "Jen, you look great!" 

I'm not even lying, either. She's wearing a black, clingy knit dress with her hair loosely curled and caught up with a pretty clip, and he's wearing a black suit. I think she said something last week about some sort of independent film awards thing they're going to later. 

"Thanks," she replies, smiling warily in return. I guess if I were in her position, I'd be on the look-out for knives and barely suppressed raging jealousy, too. Dawson's also looking at me curiously, probably half-expecting me to burst into tears at the sight of them together. 

"We're not interrupting anything, are we?" he asks, glancing from Pacey to me and back again. 

Shaking my head, I quickly say, "No, of course not." 

Dawson raises a disbelieving eyebrow, studying my face in the most annoying way imaginable. 

"You're such a bad liar, Jo," he gently points out, which earns him an elbow in the ribs from Jen and my best glare ever. 

"I've always found it sort of endearing, really," Pacey comments, and I can't tell if he's being serious or not. "The way she shrugs her shoulders and smiles when she fibs, it just gets me every time." 

It's my turn to do a little elbowing, and if his grunt is any indication, I think I got the message across. 

"Where's Audrey hiding?" Jen asks, drawing attention away from my cute, lying ways. 

"She was supposedly touching up her makeup in the lady's room, but it looks as though she's gotten a little sidetracked," Pacey answers. I don't even need to look to know that somewhere, with someone, Audrey is flirting outrageously. 

Dawson glances at the dining area, asking, "Do you know how much longer it'll be for our table?" 

"As a matter of fact, it looks like Carl's got it cleared now." 

"Thank God," I mumble under my breath, but I must have said it louder than I thought because Pacey glances at me with this weird, somewhat amused expression on his face. 

"Angst, table for five?" he asks, offering me his arm. I have no choice but to accept it, loosely curling my hand around his bicep. 

There's no need to be rude, is there?   


  


true love fanfic | kaytee-did.com


	2. Dinner with Friends (2/3)

Dinner with Friends

by Kaytee

Disclaimer: This shit ain't mine, and they can keep it. 

Author's Note: This veers off from the show's storyline after "Something Wild." As in, Pacey and Audrey aren't hooking up, Joey didn't kiss her damn teacher, and Dawson was only mildly irritating. Yeah. 

Thank you: To Bijal, for seven solid months of total flaking on my part. To Lara, for being a-musing. To Laura Sue, for wacked-out inspiration. 

Rating: PG 

Distribution: Ask me. 

Feedback: Yes, please! kaytee@dstream.net 

* * *

Part Two

Pacey winks charmingly at the waitress as he hands her our menus. Thankfully, she just rolls her eyes instead of blushing and giggling like a twelve-year old. "Stop it, Pacey, or I'll be forced to spit in your chicken primavera." 

"Laura, if you want to swap saliva with me, all you have to do is ask." 

Amid a chorus of groans, she taps him on top of the head with the stack of menus in her hand. "Yeah, and I'm sure that generous offer will seem even more attractive after I have that frontal lobotomy I've been saving for. Until then, I suggest you hold your breath and wait." 

"Oooh," Audrey hoots from beside me while Dawson and Jen don't even bother to hide their laughter. "Burn!" 

"Damn," I begin, shaking my head while she walks away. "If only I had said that two years ago. Imagine how much better off I'd be." 

Leaning his elbow on the table and resting his chin in his hand, Pacey just looks at me. And smiles. I swear to God, if I end up giggling, I'm just leaving. I'm just going to get up and go. It's bad enough that I'm beginning to blush like crazy. 

"I hate you." 

"Is that so?" 

"Yes," I sniff daintily, taking a sip of my water. Too bad I can't splash some on my face. "So, Audrey, who's your new friend?" 

"Huh?" She looks confused for a moment, and then a light visibly flips on upstairs. "Oh! You mean that guy back there?" 

Dawson laughs disbelievingly. "How many friends did you make on the way back from the bathroom? Is there a reason it took you so long to join us?" 

Audrey tosses her hair over her shoulder and offers him a broad, fake smile. "Listen, sweetie, this might be something of a shocker for ya, but you make more friends when you use deodorant with a fair amount of regularity." 

"Ooh!" Pacey mimics her, then stops and shakes his head. "Wait, I was gonna follow that up with 'burn', but I actually managed to graduate from high school." 

Rolling her eyes, Jen joins in the fun. "You're not nearly as cute as you think you are, Pace." 

"God help us all if he was," I point out, breathing a deep sigh of mock relief. 

"Where is Jack? Dawson and I shouldn't have to deal with the three of you alone." 

"Off fraternizing with his frat buddies. He said that he couldn't get out of . . . I don't know, a house party or something," Jen answers, and not without a touch of bitterness in her voice. 

"So he just ditched us to hang out with his beer-guzzling, fun-loving brethren?" I ask, trying not to sound too irritated with Jack, because I understand that he wants to make new friends and all that. But he just emailed me the other day, telling me how much he'd love to see me, that he's missed me. Apparantly, not any more than he misses his beer. 

"He did ask me to make his apologies. Especially to you, Jo," she adds. "He wanted me to tell you that he hasn't forgotten your plans to hang out next week, and that he's well aware that his status as Favorite Ex-Boyfriend is in serious danger of slipping to Pacey." 

Not surprisingly, Pacey himself is the first to comment. "I was under the impression that I've already won that particular honor. Isn't that what you said last week when I came and picked you up and hauled you and every article of clothing you own to the Laundromat?" 

"Hey," Dawson pipes up. "Am I even in the running for that? 

"No," I answer him, my embarrassment not at all helped by Audrey's barely-restrained laughter. 

To Pacey, I say, "You must have misheard me. Jack is my favorite, and until either one of you go guy-watching with me, he'll remain my favorite." 

"Keep in mind, Jo, that you and I have participated in other, much more pleasurable activi-" 

"Jen, how's your radio show doing?" I cut him off, focusing my attention on her. "I've caught it a few times, but last fall I had a class while it was on." 

"It's going great," she smiles. "They pay me to give relationship advice to strangers over the radio and play whatever music I want. I've even managed to keep my New Year's resolution so far, too." 

"Which was . . . ?" 

"To not reveal much of my notorious New York past and wind up crying on-air." Grinning, she gives me a sarcastic thumbs-up. "So far, so good." 

"At least you chose an attainable goal," Audrey comments. "I mean, I made my resolution while I was deep in the throes of throwing up on New Year's Afternoon when I woke up." 

Pacey takes a wild stab in the dark. "No more drinking?" 

"And that lasted a whole three days," she admits. "But you know, I've always made ridiculous resolutions. Last year, I resolved to not only focus on school, but to leave the boys alone to concentrate. I met a boy at lunch and went out with him that night." 

"My resolution last year was practically the opposite," I tell her. "I'd always made the best grades possible, and with only a semester to go I resolved to not obsess about schoolwork and focus on the boys. Well, one boy in particular, and well . . . everyone knows how that worked out." 

The table is quiet for a moment, and everyone who isn't staring uncomfortably at their plate is glancing from me to Pacey and back again. Why did I even open my mouth? 

Finally, Audrey asks, "What was your resolution this year? I know you told me, but I don't really let things like information ruin my sparkling personality." 

She knows exactly what it was, but it's sweet of her to break the awkward silence. "I, uh, I basically resolved to make new friends and start enjoying my life." 

"I think I'm offended," Dawson says, but it's clear he's only teasing. "Just please, promise me that you're not going to make so many new friends that you forget us." 

"I understand the whole 'one is silver and the other is gold" concept, thanks," I answer, laughing when he wipes his brow in exaggerated relief. "I'm just saying, I've let so much crap from high school linger on for far too long. I haven't really explored what Boston has to offer me." 

"That's nice and all, but really, which one am I?" Audrey asks, and I can't even tell if she's serious. "Gold or silver?" 

"What?" I ask, laughing. 

"Gold or silver?" she repeats, enunciating clearly. "I mean, I realize you share some kind of bond with everyone else at the table. You and Dawson swam around that little creek until you got boobs and turned the world on with your half-smile. Or is it 'swum'?" 

"Swam, I think," Jen offers. "Although both 'swam' and 'swum' sound slightly dirty." 

"They kinda do, don't they?" Audrey agrees, then turns back to me. "Anyway, you and Jen have this psychotic love/hate friendship, with boy-swapping thrown in for extra fun, and that's a bond you'll have for life. Obviously, she's gold." 

"Obviously." Jen sticks her tongue out at the overjoyed tone in my voice. 

"And then there's Pacey," Audrey goes on, and my stomach settles in my shoes. "Gold, clearly. And don't look at me like that, I'm not about to embarrass you by bringing up the various, heart-stealing reasons." 

I don't even have to look at him to know that he's grinning like an ass. "Is there a point, Audrey?" 

"The point is that while I may in fact be a new friend, I am not silver." 

"No, you're not," I agree, shaking my head. "In my heart of heart's, Audrey, you're definitely fool's gold." 

"Cheap, fake, guaranteed to turn your skin green?" Audrey thinks about this for a moment before shrugging. "Yeah, that sounds about right." 

Dawson looks toward the back of the restaurant, where people are bustling around the open kitchen. "When is our food going to be ready?" he asks. 

"You just ate a sandwich an hour ago, Dawson," Jen laughs, sneaking her arm through his and kissing his cheek. "They look kind of harried back there, anyway, so quit your bitching." 

As much as I shouldn't care that they're together, and even though I know I'm not in love with Dawson . . . when he glances at her with his heart in his eyes, I flinch and have to look away. 

Right into Pacey's watchful eyes.   


  


true love fanfic | kaytee-did.com


	3. Dinner with Friends (3/3)

Dinner with Friends

by Kaytee

Disclaimer: This shit ain't mine, and they can keep it. 

Author's Note: This veers off from the show's storyline after "Something Wild." As in, Pacey and Audrey aren't hooking up, Joey didn't kiss her damn teacher, and Dawson was only mildly irritating. Yeah. 

Thank you: To Bijal, for seven solid months of total flaking on my part. To Lara, for being a-musing. To Laura Sue, for wacked-out inspiration. 

Rating: PG 

Distribution: Ask me. 

Feedback: Yes, please! kaytee@dstream.net 

* * *

Part Three

It was just beginning to snow when we arrived, but it looks like it's been snowing steadily since. The chill in the air steals the breath from my lungs, and I wish I'd remembered my gloves. They're not exactly doing me a whole lot of good on my nightstand. 

"Damn, it's cold!" Audrey exclaims as she steps outside, immediately pulling her jacket tighter around her. "I think my nipples are about to pop off." 

"I could warm 'em up for you, if you want," Pacey says, offering two helping hands. 

"Gosh, so generous!" she enthuses. "No." 

"How bout you, Jo?" he asks, undeterred. Wiggling his fingers, he raises his eyebrows and grins. "Need any help?" 

Memories of lazy afternoons on the deck of our boat swirl up before I can suppress them. And it's clear he knows exactly what's making me scowl. "Yeah, I don't think so. Sorry." 

He shrugs as Dawson and Jen join us, buttoning up their coats. "Your loss." 

Dawson glances between us and decides not to ask. Bless him. "Jen and I are going back home. Do you guys want to come with us? We could watch a movie." 

"Yeah, come on," Jen adds, plainly trying to get out of having to watch Jaws with him for the hundredth time. "We haven't had a movie night in a long while." 

"Actually," Audrey cuts in, "I have a date. I gotta get going." 

"What?" She didn't tell me she had a date before we left. "With who?" 

"Jason," she answers, speaking to me as if I'm particularly dense. "You know, the guy I met on the way to the bathroom? I'm supposed to meet him at the Sugar Shack in half an hour." 

"Oh, silly me," I comment, shaking my head. "Will you be home by midnight?" 

"Not a chance." She grabs my head and gives me a kiss on the cheek, saying, "Don't wait up!" 

"Well, what about you?" Jen asks Pacey, trying to scratch the tip of her nose with gloves on. "We'll even let you make dessert for us if you're really nice." 

He pretends to take a moment to consider before answering. "Somehow, I think I'll have to decline your lovely offer. I wouldn't want to interfere with the quality time you're about to spend with Roy Schneider, bad impressions and a detailed history of the film by your boyfriend." 

"Hey!" Dawson protests. "My impressions are not that bad. Right, Jen?" 

Jen shakes her head in agreement with him. "They're very, uh . . . well practiced." 

Looking up at me with pleading eyes, she says, "We have E.T. We have Pretty in Pink. We have Pretty Woman and lots and lots of other movies." 

"Joey's gotta go home," Pacey interjects, completely ignoring the way my head whips toward him in order to glare incredulously. "Big test tomorrow, she needs to study." 

"Goodnight, then," Dawson smiles, and Jen sighs in defeat with a little wave. They turn and walk toward his Jeep and before I can bring myself to speak without spitting daggers, it's too late to call after them. Damn.   
After a moment I turn back to him, smiling. "Thanks. I actually do have a test I need to study for, how'd you know? I'd better be going." 

He takes my arm as I try to pass him, and really, I pretty much figured he would. It was worth a shot, though, right? My shoulders slump in defeat, and I lean my head to the side and look up at him. "I'm not going to get out of this, am I?" 

"Nope," he says lightly, letting go of my arm to reach into his pockets. Bringing out a pair of black gloves, he offers them to me while I stand here blinking the snow out of my eyes. 

I'd love to be snotty enough to refuse them, but my fingers are freezing and I really want them. "Thanks," I mutter after a moment, taking them and slipping both on. 

"My car's in the shop, the heater broke and I don't have my tools in Boston," he says, shrugging apologetically. "Otherwise I'd drive you wherever you wanted to go." 

"It's okay," I reply as we begin walking toward Worthington. "It's only about twelve blocks, anyway. And now that I've got gloves, I'm good." 

"Good." 

We walk along in silence for a little while, probably waiting for the other person to speak first. That's okay, too, because I'm not really anxious to talk about what he overheard tonight. We've gone nearly a block and a half before he finally says anything. 

"Tell me something, Potter." 

"What's that?" 

"How could you get over me so quickly, yet still be so hung up on him?" 

I knew it was coming, but it stings nonetheless. He takes a deep breath before continuing, as if he's been preparing for this all evening. 

"When I overheard you talking about us, that was the first time you've seemed to remember that you and I were together for over a year. And then, when you had to look away from them . . . I don't understand." 

I barely know where to begin, really. It's awhile before I even try to answer. He doesn't push me for one, but I can't exactly ignore the question either. 

"Pacey . . . you graduated and you didn't tell me, knowing how much it meant to me. Even broken up, even barely friends, I loved you and I would have loved to see your face when Peskin handed you your diploma. I always believed you would do it." Wiping the snow from my face, I glance over at him. He's watching the sidewalk. "You only told Andie." 

"At the time, it felt like Andie was the only one I could tell." He said it gently, but . . . damn. "The thing is, it didn't matter if you knew I could or would graduate, because I didn't believe it. And when I actually did it, I was proud of myself for the first time in such a long, long time. I didn't want to have that feeling changed or - or diminished by someone else's pride. I don't think I'm explaining this well at all." 

"I think I understand," I say quietly, and I think I actually do. "You didn't want anyone to say 'well, isn't that nice' or 'I told you so,' did you?" 

He meets my eyes briefly, nodding as if relieved that I get it. "Or even 'I always believed you would do it,' no matter how sincerely meant. I pretty much figured that McPhee'd squeal just the same as she squeals at the sight of a library." 

"Gotcha," I say, trying to smile despite the way my chest begins to ache with the cold. Or maybe it's my heart that's aching. 

A strained silence follows, made all the more uncomfortable by the knowledge that this is just the tip of the iceberg here. 

"So, there was a question asked that I still need to answer, don't I?" I finally say, and not without a pretty pathetic sigh. "The Dawson thing." 

"Look," he begins, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm like he does when he's tired or frustrated or both. "You don't have to answer. God knows it's none of my business." 

"It's not," I agree, which wins me a quick, dark look. "Hey, don't look at me like that. You said it." 

"You wanna know why I never really said goodbye?" he asks. "Why I didn't tell you I was leaving Capeside?" 

"Because you were afraid I'd cry and beg you to stay?" 

He surprises me by stopping right there in the middle of the sidewalk to look me in the eyes. "I was more afraid you wouldn't do either." 

I'm absolutely floored, more by anger than anything else. "I can't believe I've slept with you!" is the only response I can muster, and as soon as I say it I storm past him down the sidewalk. Straight through the heart of a group of high school boys lining up to high-five him. 

He catches up to me immediately, grabbing me by the elbow to slow me down. As soon I turn toward him and see how confused and angry he looks, that's it. I feel the words bubble up inside and there's nothing I can do to stop myself from letting them loose. 

"Do you have any idea how much you fucking hurt me?" I demand, angrily pushing damp strands of hair out of my face. "In your big rush to get out of Capeside and start a new life, did you even care?" 

"Of course I cared! What the hell do you think I am, some heartless bastard who couldn't give a shit?" 

"At least we agree on one thing," I snap, folding my arms across my chest. 

It looks as if he's about to burst a blood vessel when he stops and takes a deep, calming breath. "Let's not put on a show, okay?" 

Suddenly aware of the stares from passersby, not to mention the people who have clearly stopped to listen, I turn away and continue walking down the sidewalk toward the dorms. He's somewhere beside me, but I'm not even going to look. 

The anger drains fairly quickly, leaving me both embarrassed and tired. It's only a few more blocks, and I can't wait to curl up in the fetal position on my bed and pray for sleep. 

"I cared," he says softly, and his voice is nearly drowned out by the roar of a motorcycle revving up across the street. "I still do." 

I wait until after it's roared away and the sound has all but faded from the chilly night air. "I know."   
"I left for many reasons, Jo," he says after awhile. "I had a chance to do something I loved, and maybe make a life out of it. The idea of sailing away from the hell I was in was more appealing than I could ever say, and I'd have been insane to pass it up. I know I could have handled it better, and I'm sorry." 

"You don't have to apologize." He seems surprised, and I try my best to explain. "I wasn't exactly the most supportive girlfriend. I know I was far from blameless when we broke up, Pacey. And if I were you, I would have gotten as far away from me as I could have, too." 

"You didn't drive me away." I snort disbelievingly, shaking my head, and he goes on to explain. "Well, not the way you're thinking. I didn't want to be in Capeside when you left for Worthington without me. I -" 

"Well, for whatever reason, you did leave," I interrupt him. "And you didn't call. You didn't send a postcard from Florida. I waited and waited, and you didn't come back." 

"So you went after Dawson?" 

"No, I didn't go after Dawson," I deny immediately. "It wasn't like that." 

He doesn't want to ask, I can tell. I don't want to explain, either, but I think it's time I did. 

"I kissed him because he was -" 

"Nope. I thought I could, but no," he breaks in. "I really, really don't wanna know." 

"What?" 

"I really, really don't -" 

"I heard you!" 

"Look," he begins, running a hand through his damp hair. "If we have the Dawson talk, we have to have the Karen talk. And who wants that?" 

He has an excellent point, actually. 

I shrug, pretending to be dismayed. "And here I had all these really good Melanie questions ready, too." 

It's been a good long while since I've seen anyone so overwhelmingly relieved and mildly horrified. 

"I'm really glad we decided to put this off, because the last thing I want to do is discuss your crush on your English teacher," he recovers nicely, and it's my turn to squirm. "I mean, really, do you remember me Sophomore year? Do you even have a grasp on the concept of learning by example?" 

"Well, I'm pretty sure I've learned not to tell Audrey or Jen anything I don't want you to know." 

He laughs, and I can't stop myself from smiling at the familiar sound. "Rest assured, matchmakers go to a special hell." 

We're almost at my building, and I'm kind of disappointed. I don't really want to end our evening with Dawson or Karen or anyone else as the topic of conversation. And I still haven't answered his question. 

"You asked me how I could get over you so quickly." 

He glances over at me and shrugs, saying, "Yeah, don't worry about it. I shouldn't have said anything." 

"I know I act as though I never fell in love with you," I blurt out, effectively killing that moment or two of comfortable familiarity we had going. "I know I seem as though I don't remember everything about being with you, like I've somehow forgotten that you loved me, too." 

He doesn't say anything, which is the universal signal to babble as I understand it. 

"When I left Capeside, I planned on starting a brand new life," I say, suddenly interested in my shoes. "I told myself that I was done waiting by the phone for you to call. I was done wondering if I was the worst person on earth for kissing Dawson, just so he'd stay and keep my mind off of you. But you know what?" 

He clears his throat before answering as we finally reach my dorm, standing together beneath the awning above the front door. "What?" 

"A part of me still wanted to ask if you'd called while I was out," I tell him, toying with the zipper of my coat. 

"Ah, Jo . . . I'm sorry I didn't look you up when I got to Boston. I didn't think I was going to stay." 

"Don't be sorry. That was a long time ago." I raise my eyes to his and smile, however tremulous it might appear. "The point is, that same part of me is still just as ready to run away with you as I was two years ago." 

His fingers are bitingly cold when he brings his hand up to my face, but his touch is just as warm as I remember. It's all I can do to keep from leaning into it. 

"Don't tempt me, Potter," he quietly teases, gently sweeping the snow from my cheek with his thumb. 

I know what's coming. I've seen that look hundreds, maybe thousands of time, and still I'm surprised when it happens. 

His lips touch mine lightly in a series of soft kisses, each lingering just a little longer than the last. It's like I've never kissed him before in my life, yet at the same time so warm and familiar it feels as though I never stopped. 

When we break for air long moments later, my eyes open slowly to stare into his and I jump away from as if I'd touched fire. 

"Well, that was awkward," I laugh, and even to my own ears it sounds incredibly forced. 

"Kissing you is never awkward, Jo," he counters gently, shoving his hands back into the pockets of his leather jacket. "It's everything else between us that doesn't seem to feel right." 

I concentrate on peeling his gloves off my fingers instead of answering. When I hand them to him, his thumb sweeps over my wrist and I wonder if he can tell how fast my pulse is racing. 

"It's, uh, it's getting late," I say rather lamely, snatching my hand from his grasp and shoving it into the pocket of my jeans. "I'd better get inside." 

He nods, stepping back from me as well. "Yeah, yeah it is." 

"See you tomorrow maybe?" I ask, hating the way my voice sounds all hopeful. 

"Sure," he smiles. "I'll call. Promise." 

"Goodnight. Thanks for contriving to walk me home." 

"Anytime," he says, slipping the gloves on. "'Night, Potter." 

He's almost all the way down the block before I call after him. 

"Hey, Pacey!" 

He turns expectantly, and I can barely see him through the snow. 

"Hey what?" 

"You never told me what your New Year's resolution was!" 

Pacey laughs, and even though people are once again stopping to stare, I grin back. 

"My resolution was a lot like yours," he hollers. His voice is neally lost to the wind and the snow, so he begins walking back to me. "To stick around Boston, and see what this little bean town has to offer!" 

My heart pounding in my chest, I yell, "How's that working out for you?" 

He's just a few feet away when he answers, the snow falling heavily between us while other obstacles begin clearing away. 

"Better by the moment, Potter."   


  


true love fanfic | kaytee-did.com


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